


Some Virtuous Lie

by Ingardis



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Insecure Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Love Potion/Spell, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M, Magic but as an excuse for smut, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Alternating, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24401164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingardis/pseuds/Ingardis
Summary: Jaskier should really warn Geralt before putting unmarked potions into his bag.-Or, Jaskier stores a lust potion that looks awfully similar to a health potion in Geralt's bag. Geralt, of course, drinks it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 286





	Some Virtuous Lie

Every time Jaskier opened his mouth to speak, Geralt’s unwavering, tense gaze into the fire seemed to keep him from talking. Jaskier had never seen him in such a state before and had no idea how to proceed. The two had packed up from their respective beds that morning and set camp in a forest clearing at sundown, but nothing of note happened as the two traveled. He considered talking to Roach for advice -- not the most absurd thing he had done to understand Geralt -- but decided against it. 

Slowly, as if to not startle him, Jaskier moved imperceptibly closer to Geralt on the damp log. Jaskier opened his mouth to speak again, but couldn’t find the right words. He had been traveling with Geralt for nearly five years at this point but had never seen the witcher in such a state. To take stock of the situation, Jaskier gently rose from the log and paced around their campsite, gathering the driest branches he could find to add to the fire. Meanwhile, he kept stealing glances at Geralt’s set face, trying to figure out why he was so tense. 

Geralt’s hands gripped the log at his sides, white-knuckled and slightly trembling. A vein drew against his temple, and his legs pressed tightly together. The witcher’s eyes did not move from their intense gaze into the fire, somehow avoiding Jaskier completely. Finally, Jaskier thrust his armful of branches into the fire and stepped up to Geralt, hands over his chest. 

“I’ve had enough of your moping. Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to ask Roach?” Jaskier demanded, exasperated. He was just about ready to ask Roach, honestly.

“ _ Jaskier.”  _ Geralt grated through his teeth, knuckles tightening minutely against the log. “Do you think it would have been a good idea to tell me if you were going to use my bag to store your belongings?”

_ Oh. _

~~~

“ _ Oh” _ , groaned Jaskier, his flushed head thrown back against the plush wool bed. He thrust his hips feverishly up into the woman atop his lap who was panting from lust and exhaustion. Jaskier shuddered as a gust of cool breeze from the window ghosted across the bites and bruises on his chest. 

He sat up--as well as he could, given his position and general state--and grasped the woman’s shoulders, giving him the clearance to suck gentle marks into her neck. 

_ More,  _ she gasped, and Jaskier hurriedly flipped their positions on the bed. Cock aching, Jaskier set a more feverish rhythm and felt his eyes glaze over with pleasure. The woman on the bed met his thrusts enthusiastically and clenched around him without warning, screaming her pleasure into the night. 

Jaskier, ever conscientious, pulled out and fit a hand around his leaking cock. In only a few strokes, he came over the length of her back, shuddering and groaning as he milked the rest of his completion. When Jaskier pulled back to grab a cloth and some water from the basin next to the bed, the woman was already rolling off of the bed to clean herself. 

“I would normally be pleased to stay the night, but I have to attend to the kitchen.” explained the woman as she cleaned her back and pulled on a shift. “You’re free to stay till morning, though.”

“Right, yes. Good luck with the kitchen, and all that.” Jaskier answered, hazy. As talkative as he was, the bard was more comfortable communicating with action in bed. 

She stepped towards the door, gathering her overdress and shoes as she moved to leave. 

“You may want to lock this, people tend to forget which room they’ve rented after a few drinks.” And, with the ease that she had entered, the woman left.

Jaskier flopped back onto the mattress, still sinking in his post-orgasmic haze. He briskly cleaned his now-soft cock with the cloth and crawled under the blankets. Idly, he wondered if Geralt had taken care of the kikimora yet, and whether or not the man would need help with his wounds. More vividly, Jaskier wondered if Geralt had taken a woman to bed. He grunted, stilling his suddenly-interested cock, and willed himself to go to sleep.

\--

Jaskier woke as the rays of morning sun pierced through the linen curtains and landed squarely on his face. As he blearily opened his eyes, squinting through the light, he was startled to find Geralt waiting expectantly near the door. 

“How the hell did you get in?” Jaskier demanded, instinctively pulling the blanket up to cover his bare hips.

“Innkeeper told me your room number. You were supposed to lock it before you fell asleep. Let’s go, we have a long stretch today.” Geralt grumbled.

“Well ex- _ cuse  _ me, maybe I wanted to sleep in! Why are you the one calling the shots?” Jaskier huffed petulantly. 

“I’m the only reason you’re still alive. Let’s go.” Geralt repeated, turning towards the door. 

Before he could respond, Geralt had closed the door behind him and he could hear the witcher’s descent down the stairs. Jaskier groaned and stretched the sleep out of his muscles. He rose from the bed (which he could have sworn was more comfortable last night), and pulled on his teal green doublet and breeches. 

Jaskier bent to retrieve his lute from the floor, but paused when he noticed a vial of translucent red liquid on the windowsill. It reminded him slightly of Geralt’s health potions, but glinted gold in the morning sun when he agitated the liquid. Shrugging, he slipped the tiny vial in his lute case in a hollow next to the pegbox. He would give it to Geralt and ask about it later. 

Well, maybe Jaskier didn’t  _ ask  _ to place the vial in Geralt’s bag for safekeeping.

~~~

“Well, about that…” Jaskier started sheepishly. “I found it on the windowsill after I left Lydia last night, and I didn’t know what it was so I thought that you might have an answer. I suppose I probably should have warned you before I put it in your bag, huh?”

Geralt snapped his head up incredulously, hands now grasping his trembling thighs with an iron grip. 

“And you had  _ absolutely no idea  _ what was in that potion?” he gritted, molten eyes locked on Jaskier. The bard could swear Geralt’s pupils had blown out to saucers, but it could have just been the light of the fire.

Jaskier swallowed nervously and shook his head, but did not miss the way Geralt’s eyes seemed to lock onto his throat.

“Jaskier. The potion your lovely Lydia left you was a lust philtre, you were the first person I looked at after mistaking it for a health potion, and I am about three seconds away from seating myself on your pretty cock and riding you until you can’t breathe.” 

Jaskier shuddered as Geralt’s deep words went straight to his cock. As much as he wanted to take the witcher up on his suggestion, he also didn’t feel right taking advantage of him considering the situation. Remarkably, Jaskier had been able to stifle his lust for the witcher for the five years they had been traveling together, and he planned on keeping it quiet for the next five. Anyway, he assumed Geralt didn’t even bed men, nevermind  _ Jaskier. _

“Not that I’m objecting, but I think that’s just the potion talking, Geralt. Can we just get to a brothel tomorrow?” Jaskier suggested.

Geralt stood up then, and in turn revealed the reason why he had been clenching his thighs together.  _ Oh,  _ thought Jaskier, as he was suddenly face-to-face with the witcher’s cock straining against his tight breeches. A spot of wetness was already seeping through the fabric, and his cock throbbed uselessly as Jaskier released a startled gasp.

_ "Jaskier. _ You are the first person I looked at after drinking the potion, and this won't go away until you fuck me. I know I'm not your first choice, and I'm sorry that you have to do this with  _ me  _ of all people, but my skin has been on fire for the past three hours while I've been trying to work through this alone.” Geralt grunted as he tried to keep his distance from Jaskier.

Jaskier still wasn’t fully comfortable taking advantage of Geralt in this state, despite the protest of his growing arousal. He shifted in his seat, trying to subtly palm his erection to keep it from becoming obvious. 

“Geralt.. I’m comfortable doing this, but I don’t want to wake up tomorrow to find you gone. I don’t want this to end our friendship, and I don’t want to lose you. I realize it’s no secret that I’m interested in you and I know you’d prefer anyone to me, but I just can’t bear the thought of this being the last time I see you.” Jaskier confessed breathlessly. For a moment, both he and Geralt were still, standing a few feet apart from each other. Then, something shifted in Geralt’s eyes.

Before Jaskier knew what was happening, Geralt’s hands were on his doublet and backing him into a tree. Geralt growled deep in his throat and pressed a thigh between Jaskier’s legs insistently, grinding up minutely. With unexpected tenderness, he brushed the hair away from Jaskier’s ear before leaning forward and whispering fiercely.

“Jaskier, I don’t want a goddamn whore. I’m sick of going to taverns and brothels and wishing the woman under me had lute-callused fingertips and short chestnut hair. I’ve only ever wanted you. I want to feel you come apart underneath me, I want you to yell my name as you reach your completion and spill inside of me. I want to wake up and limp through our campsite and know that you’re the reason I’m having trouble walking.”

_ Oh.  _

Resolve shattered, Jaskier grabbed two handfuls of Geralt’s hair and pulled the man back from his ear. Even if Geralt was under the influence of some lust potion, his words still went straight to his cock. He pressed his lips urgently against the witcher’s and pressed forward, feeling the insistence of his arousal against his stomach. Geralt deepened the kiss, reaching up to cradle Jaskier’s jaw in his hands. Growling, the witcher took Jaskier’s bottom lip into his own and bit it gently, enough to leave it wet and swollen. 

“F...fuck, Geralt.” Jaskier stuttered as he returned the kiss fervently and pressed even closer against the witcher. “I need…” 

“Tell me what you need, bard. _ ”  _ Geralt purred, eyes darkening. He held onto Jaskier’s hips and ground up against the bard deliberately. Jaskier moaned deeply as he felt Geralt’s erection dragging firmly against his own. 

“I need you to ride me, Geralt. Take what’s yours.” Jaskier gasped. He knew that Geralt's words were brought on by the potion, but it was so easy to pretend that they were his own.

This seemed to break something in Geralt as he suddenly lifted Jaskier up by the hips and brought him to his bedroll. Jaskier’s face was flushed with need as he continued to pant and thrust his hips upward. 

“Take off your clothes, bard.” Geralt commanded as he started to tear his own underclothes off. He cursed to himself inwardly as the shoulder seam of his linen chemise ripped in his haste to be rid of it. Jaskier was not far behind, with his doublet on the ground next to him and his hands working at the laces of his breeches. 

Finally divested of clothes, Geralt lowered himself to kneel in front of Jaskier. The bard took a steeling breath and gazed up at the man above him. His pale white hair was hanging in tangles, framing his dark eyes blown wide with lust. A sheen of sweat had broken over Geralt’s broad chest and his flushed cock was visibly throbbing against his leg. Jaskier was certain that it was the most beautiful sight he had seen in his entire life, and said as much.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, bard.” Geralt grumbled. Before Jaskier could react, he leaned down and pressed the flat of his tongue against Jaskier’s swollen cock. He keened desperately and tried not to thrust into Geralt’s mouth. Geralt took his time, clearly savoring the heavy feeling of Jaskier’s cock on his tongue. He reached up and started rubbing surprisingly tender circles into the bard’s hips. Then, locking eyes with Jaskier, Geralt sunk down to the root of the other man’s cock and hollowed his cheeks, starting to bob slowly.

“Geralt, you  _ fucking tease!”  _ Jaskier grit out, hands gripping the man’s hair at the roots. If he continued on like this… Jaskier clenched his eyes shut as he felt his release building. “Stop!” 

Geralt, shocked out of his reverie, pulled up suddenly and cursed inwardly. Before he had a chance to apologize, Jaskier shut down his misplaced guilt.

“You weren’t doing anything wrong… in fact, you were doing things far too right. I just don’t want to come before you get to fuck yourself on me. I’m not blessed with witcher stamina, after all!” Jaskier chuckled nervously, still coming down from his impending release.

Geralt visibly calmed at the reassurance, nodded, and leaned back to pull a corked bottle of oil from his pack. He slicked a finger and was about to reach back to his entrance when Jaskier grasped his wrist and stilled him.

“Can I?”

Geralt, previously thinking it was impossible to get any harder, felt another rush of blood to his groin. He moaned hungrily and laid on his stomach next to Jaskier. In contrast to his other experiences, Jaskier was tender where others were rough, attentive where others were focused only on their own pleasure. He stifled a moan from the thought alone.

Jaskier, continuing to be full of surprises, got up and pressed the length of his body against Geralt’s back. He pressed unhurried, gentle kisses against the nape of Geralt’s neck and continued up his jaw, occasionally sucking or biting a tender patch of skin into his mouth. Geralt purred under the ministrations, unwilling to admit that no one ever took the time to treat him like this. 

The bard then trailed a hand up Geralt’s side and shoulder and pressed his thumb firmly against the seal of the witcher’s lips. Geralt opened his mouth eagerly and sucked the digit into the hollow of his cheek. He prodded the pad of the thumb with his tongue until he heard Jaskier release a shaky breath and withdraw. 

Jaskier pulled back minutely and Geralt braced himself for the press of the bard’s finger in his hole, but instead Jaskier lowered himself and began tenderly tracing the scars on Geralt’s back with his fingers. He kissed each one gently before moving onto the next. 

“Geralt, you are the most beautiful thing I have seen in my entire life. My journals are full of ballads you would be mortified to hear me sing, but it would be impossible for me to not write them with a muse as gorgeous as you.”

_ Leave it to the bard to get sappy before he’s about to open me up..  _ Geralt thought incredulously. Still, Jaskier’s words pulled at his heart in a way that he was unfamiliar with, and he only grunted contently in lieu of an actual response. 

“Talkative as ever, my wolf.” Jaskier mused, pushing his slicked finger into Geralt’s hole. 

_ Well. That was new. _

Geralt growled and pushed desperately back against Jaskier’s finger as it pressed patiently into his entrance. Between the pet name and feel of Jaskier opening him up, Geralt felt ready to burst. He reached underneath himself to palm his weeping cock and hopefully stave off some of the pressure that was building. 

“Another.” he grunted, and Jaskier obliged happily. He slicked his middle finger and began pressing it inside Geralt’s wet heat, gently scissoring the witcher open. Suddenly, Jaskier’s fingertips hit Geralt’s prostate, and he arched his back desperately into the bedroll beneath him.

“Jaskier, I am going to come all over your bedroll before you even get inside of me. Roll over.”

Jaskier moaned at the words and pulled out of Geralt’s heat gently, then did as he was told and laid on his back on Geralt’s own bedroll. The witcher pulled himself up onto his knees and smoothed his hand over Jaskier’s cock, slicking it with the man’s precome. Jaskier panted at this and urged his hips upward impatiently. 

“Easy, little lark.” Geralt crooned, as if  _ he  _ wasn’t the one who was terribly eager. Carefully, Geralt lowered himself onto Jaskier’s length and exhaled slowly. A few moments later he was fully seated and he leaned down to press his forehead against Jaskier’s as they both caught their breath.

Geralt felt gloriously full and savored the way that Jaskier’s cock twitched whenever the witcher shifted on his length. Jaskier exhaled and nodded his head nearly imperceptibly, which Geralt took as a cue to start moving. Gingerly, he drew off of Jaskier’s cock before sinking back in, and started a pace that wouldn’t overwhelm the bard.

Jaskier gasped and grabbed Geralt’s hips tightly with his fingertips. Inwardly, Geralt hoped that his firm grip would leave bruises in the morning. 

“More, Geralt. Fill yourself with me. I know you’re holding back, but take what you want. Fuck yourself on me.” Jaskier urged breathlessly, fingers digging deeper into Geralt’s firm hips. 

Geralt’s cock throbbed, leaking another string of precum onto the bard’s stomach. He drew out and set a brutal pace, gasping every time Jaskier’s cock pressed against his prostate. Jaskier was clearly affected as well, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as Geralt used him. 

“Lark…” Geralt groaned, his eyes clenching shut on their own volition. The pressure was starting to become too much as he felt his release building steadily. He sped up his hips, rising and sinking down on Jaskier’s cock as the pleasure became overwhelming.

“Come for me, Geralt. Come all over my face and chest. Mark me as your own.” Jaskier purred, voice dropping an octave. When the witcher had sunk down fully on his length, he moved a hand to stroke Geralt’s dripping cock frantically. 

With the feeling of Jaskier’s cock pressing against his prostate and the pressure of the bard’s hand on his cock, Geralt’s hips stuttered once, twice, and then he was overcome with white-hot pleasure as he painted his release over Jaskier’s stomach. Jaskier carefully milked the rest of his release, wary of the witcher’s sensitive cock as the man continued to shoot ropes of come onto his chest.

Geralt rose off of Jaskier’s still-hard length and lowered himself to take the bard’s cock in his mouth once more. The witcher set an equally frantic pace, hollowing his cheeks and fondling Jaskier’s balls as the bard started to thrust upwards uncontrollably. 

“Geralt… I’m about to come…” Jaskier groaned as his hips continued to push into the witcher’s mouth.

Geralt stilled minutely and rumbled against the bard’s cock.

“Let me taste you, Julian.” he growled, before sinking down to the base of Jaskier’s cock and tightening his throat as much as he could.

Jaskier screamed as pleasure overcame him, shooting load after load of come down the witcher’s throat. Geralt swallowed through it, only adding more pleasure to the bard’s release. Finally spent, he shuddered and grasped Geralt’s hair to pull the man off. Jaskier sank back onto the bedroll and stared up into space, still catching his breath.

“Wow, that was… wow.” Jaskier gasped, still out of breath.

“The great poet Jaskier, at a loss for words?” Geralt chuckled. He uncorked a waterskin from his bag and dampened a linen cloth to gently wipe his own release from Jaskier’s stomach. However, sinking out of his haze, he realized that he was no longer affected by the all-consuming heat of the potion.

“I think the potion has worn off.” Geralt said, nervously gauging Jaskier’s reaction.

“I’m sorry for what I said”, Geralt admitted, at the same time as Jaskier whispered “I meant what I said.” The two stilled and stared at each other for an imperceptible amount of time.

Jaskier drew back then, suddenly horrified as he realized Geralt had heard him. 

“Gods, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to take advantage of you, but you were just so desperate and I didn’t want to see you in pain. If you never want to see me again after this, I understand.” Jaskier confessed softly. He turned towards his bedroll, already planning how he would pack up his belongings.

“Jaskier. You didn’t take advantage of me. Were you serious when you said you wanted me?” Geralt asked, knowing that he would be blushing if witchers were capable of such a thing.

“I’m sorry!”, Jaskier cried, “You were just so eager and I blurted out the things I never had the courage to say. I can get packed up and be gone by the mor-”

“I want you too.”

Something in Jaskier’s brain shut down at that statement as he processed what Geralt was implying. Expecting confidence, Jaskier smiled to himself as he saw the uncertainty in the witcher’s face. 

He rose carefully and held the witcher’s jaw in his hand, and pressed a firm but gentle and unhurried kiss to Geralt’s lips. “Of course I want you, silly wolf.” Jaskier smiled, voice suddenly genuine and tender. Geralt nuzzled his nose into the crook of Jaskier’s neck and inhaled deeply. 

“Are you scenting me, witcher?” Jaskier started, amused.

“You smell like me.”

Jaskier shuddered and felt his eyes flutter closed. Oh, they would have to explore that later.

“Since we’ve ruined your bedroll, I guess you’ll have to share mine, huh?” Jaskier said. Geralt just chuckled and slid into the bard’s bedroll. He lifted the blanket and looked at Jaskier expectedly. 

Like a content cat, Jaskier pressed up happily to Geralt’s side under the blanket and rested his head on the witcher’s chest. Geralt’s warm hand moved to rest firmly on the bard’s lower back and pulled him closer.

“Talk in the morning?” Jaskier asked softly, already half asleep.

“Of course, lark.” Geralt responded fondly, and turned to press a kiss to the crown of Jaskier’s head. But the bard had already fallen asleep, tucked up against his witcher.


End file.
